Where in the World is Wombat? Final Day

Day Eight: 222 mile - Lake Mead take out.
They are camped at mile 222 tonight. I know this because they called! Twice! The conversations lasted a bit longer this time, but not much. First conversation was with my Dad, the second was with Paul.
-- They visited Pumpkin Spring (no, they didn't drink the water) but climbed up to a ledge and jumped, all three of them together, into the water below. They can't wait to see the picture of it.-- They wanted to know where the helicopter pad was that we landed on in 2004. [Backstory: one of my Dad's Naval Academy classmates runs a helicopter company out of Las Vegas. In May of 2004, all seven of us (Mom, Dad, me, Paul, Skip, Emily, and a six-month old Will) flew out to Las Vegas and took an all day tour. We had lunch in the Grand Canyon, flew over Bryce, and then over Zion... including an incredible fly-over of the Narrows and right over Angel's Landing. It was spectacular.] I'd plotted the helipad the night before and was able to look on Google Earth and figure out the location for them. They'll pass it tomorrow.
-- Tomorrow, they raft to Separation Canyon, then get picked up by speed boats who will fast-track them to Pearce Ferry, where they will get the bus back to Las Vegas. They will meet the speed boats around 9am and then have another 2 or so hours until Pearce Landing.

Paul said that he'd missed the kids, badly, since about Day 3 or 4. I mentioned that Kate had just thrown up and Will had just had an accident... "do you still miss them?" This information didn't deter his desire to be back here with them, though. Good thing, because I think my Mom and I are hopping on a cruise once we pick up Paul and Dad from the airport.

Where in the World is Wombat? Day Seven

Last night, our floating fellas camped out beneath the overlook at Toroweap. I know, because at 10:12pm (our time; 8:12 their time) my Dad called and told us so. It was just about the only thing he told us before the satellite connection gave out. That beach in the picture below? We're pretty sure that is where they camped.If you've been to my parents house and seen THE POSTERS, you've seen Toroweap. A huge photographic poster of Toroweap overlook hangs among the 7 million or so other National Park posters of all sizes hung in an incredible mosaic style within an inch of each other, filling every inch of wall, all the way up to the peaked, raised ceiling on two sides of the room. How they hung the posters is a marvel so impressive, it sits right up there with the building of the Hoover Dam. Delicate Arch, my Dad's most favorite monument, holds the crown position at the top. But Toroweap is there, too, and hard to miss. Even in pictures, it's a striking view.When my parents visited the North Rim (their words: "if you can only go once, skip the South Rim and see the North") they hiked to Toroweap Point and hung around playing chicken with the canyon edge. (I've seen the pictures. They were crazy. One strong gust would have been very unlucky for them on that day.) At some point, they noticed rafts coming down the river and hiked down the side of Toroweap to watch the rafts at Lava Falls. They noticed the camps on the river and watched the leaders pull over the scout the rapids. My Mom says that you could hear Lava Falls from Toroweap, growing louder as they descended. Here is another account:

I looked over an edge and down into a 3,000-foot-deep chasm. I had never seen anything so large or so deep, and in my joy began dancing atop a slab of rock, inches from perdition. It was the happiest brush with death I’ll ever have.

At the overlook there, the Grand Canyon simplifies itself. Instead of the busy look the canyon has upstream, with dozens of tributaries cutting down to the Colorado River, and a tumult of mesas crowding around the inner gorge, here the canyon is a simple cut in the earth with some mesas and buttes back from the edge. The river flows between vertical walls that are twice the height of the Sears Tower in Chicago, and you can look straight down upon it. Depending on the wind and the day, you can hear the river, usually as a distant whisper. The irony of that soft sound isn’t lost on you: The Colorado at this point has Class 5 rapids, the toughest ones rafters can face. They flow over the remnants of a 600-foot-high natural dam created by a volcanic eruption thousands of years before. The dam backed the Colorado up and created a vast lake that lasted for years. But the Colorado eventually tore down the dam, eroding and wedging it apart, and slamming big boulders into it during floods. Yet from a vantage 3,000 feet above it, this ferocious natural force seemed placid and purring.

With nothing to obstruct your view into the inner gorge, Toroweap is probably the best place in the national park to get a sense of how big the Grand Canyon is. Further east at South or North Rim, you can sense its vastness in a more panoramic manner. The canyon sprawls before you, impressing with its horizontal size, but it never quite gives you an adequate sense of its vertical scale. At Toroweap, the drop is so deep and dramatic that you finally "get it." There are bigger places on earth than Toroweap – the glaciers of Alaska come to mind, as well as the enormous mass of Mt. McKinley – but none can give a stronger impression of sheer immensity.

My Mom's take is similar, although in her words, the sound of Lava Falls is a roar: "and I mean, hear the ROAR." Last night, I imagine that Dad, Paul, and Skip fell asleep to that sound.

So, their day's itinerary: "Day 7: 178-222 mile. Lava falls, last night."This is a geologic explanation of Lava Falls:

Prospect Canyon is of particular interest. It has been filled several times with lava flows and is only just starting to erode a new canyon down to the river. Also, these lava flows sit right on the fault line, and each time the fault moves, it shatters some of the old lava. The watershed for the canyon extends some 20 miles further south, which means a large amount of water can come down the canyon during a flash flood. The combination of large amounts of water, shattered rock, and a steep drop to the bottom of the Grand Canyon allows large volumes of debris to pile up where it meets the Colorado River. The result is Lava Falls Rapid.

Most of the Prospect Canyon debris fan was deposited in a huge debris flow about 3,000 years ago. This river blockage is responsible for Lava Falls Rapid and also backed up the Colorado River for at least 20 miles. River gradient is still relatively low for 20 miles upstream.

Prior to 1939 it was debatable whether Lava Falls or Hance Rapid was the "baddest" on the river. Then another debris flow (estimated at 35,000 cu. ft. per sec.) down Prospect added to the debris fan and settled the issue. In 1966 a major debris flow down Crystal Creek created Crystal Rapid and once again there is a "baddest" debate. Prospect Canyon had another debris flow on March 6, 1995 that constricted Lava Falls Rapid again, but not enough to settle the issue. As to which rapid will become the worst - stay tuned. It might happen just as you start a future raft trip.

I have never rafted in white water so I really don't have a strong sense of the experience. I do however, have a hefty amount of respect for what could happen, and enough fear to keep me in line. To me, all the pictures and stories just make it sound like a seriously good time. Reading this -- riding with the same company Dad-n-Sons are with! -- helped.

Weekend Redux

Saturday: Lakeside Mall for errands. Realized that we really don't go to the Mall very often when Will asked what "MALL" meant. After the mall, we took Mom to late lunch at Marina Grill as a belated Mom's Day treat. Then we took the kids to the Amusement area at City Park, where a parent got up in Will's face (with no cause), causing an attendant to make him go to the back of the line, and me to morph into Momma Bear. Rather than cause a scene, I took Will away (okay... I caused a little scene) and followed up with management. The attendant apologized and we got several tickets back as compensation.

Sunday: The kids and I went to the Zoo for a playdate with Ana and Elliot. In that beautiful way of New Orleans, we ran into about half of Abeona House and hung out with Gabby and Alex, too. Multiple adults and enough kids to entertain each other... complete win-win. The kids had a BLAST running up and down Monkey Hill... Emmy became the waterfall climber (read: watchful parent) with them and suffered a back injury as a result. Despite the pain, she was able to come to my rescue when Will had a tough time leaving the 'falls, making a great learning moment for me and helping me when I was running out of tricks. My Mom enjoyed a quiet morning, which included scrubbing my pots cleaner than they have ever been and washing every piece of clothing, linen, cloth, and cotton in the house. Have I mentioned how great it is to have a Mom in the house?

Monday: Morning. My Mom admits that school is a fantastic thing; much better than staying at home. I feel validated. And tired. We take the kids to the Aquarium, after finding the Children's Museum Closed. Late afternoon trip to Target, where Will snatches a Lighting McQueen bubble bath off a shelf (despite knowing better) and I get frustrated when my Mom wants to get it for him. End story: I take it away, let him cry, explaining that I have to do it so that he doesn't grow up to be a self-entitled jerk. We have a longer talk later about store etiquette and how we ask for things.

The weekend's biggest shocker: I could not WAIT for this three-day weekend to END!

Where in the World is Wombat? Day Six

Day Six: Mile 140-178. Havasu Canyon hike.
Some notes about today's river ride, starting at about mile 144:

The inner canyon becomes precipitous for the next 25 river miles as the strata containing the slope-forming Bright Angel Shale dips below river level. This brings the Redwall/Muav Limestone layers down to river level, and this combination produces a massive cliff. Another factor contributing to the steep inner gorge is the river's canyon-cutting that has propagated upstream from the Toroweap Fault.

Havasu is well-known, and for good reason. Here's a brief description of Havasu Canyon:

Havasu Creek is another popular hike for rafting groups. The canyon itself is somewhat like a green oasis sandwiched between vertical cliffs. Havasu Creek is usually a light blue color due to dissolved limestone.

A much more in-depth and beautiful description of the Canyon, the Havasupai People, and the marvelous jewels within is located here. What is most well-known are Havasu Falls, situated much further up the Canyon on the reservation of the Havasupai Indians. This is not a place easy to access: you cannot drive there and if on foot, must hike two days to reach the village. There is a helipad, if you've access to a chartered 'copter. Once there, you can enjoy the falls. My Dad is already talking about hiking out to Havasu -- maybe next year? -- and I will not miss this one. Although I don't know who we'll be able to get to come watch the kids!?

Where in the World is Wombat? Day Five

Based on the brief conversation I had with my Dad before the phone gave up its signal, they started the day about three miles east of Deer Creek and were going to hike the Creek and Narrows. (Narrows are falls are pictured below.) Here's the gouge:

A popular hike for rafting groups is to climb up from the river at the base of Deer Creek Falls to at least reach the open valley above the falls (small green area near the lower edge). As the trail zigzags up out of the schist and Tapeats Sandstone that forms the cliff next to the river, a spectacular view unfolds. ("Throat clutching view" might be equally descriptive.) If you continue to follow the creek up to Deer Spring, you get to see another large waterfall where the stream bursts out of a cave system in the limestone cliffs.
The trail up from the river uses a slope that is the result of a large slump (very slow motion landslide). Water is able to seep down through the broken material of the slump while the underlying solid rock keeps the water near the surface. As a result vegetation (including one of the few locations that Poison Ivy exists in the canyon) is able to grow in areas several hundred feet away from the river.

The poison ivy part has me a tinsey bit concerned for Paul (he gets poison ivy out of thin air) but I don't think there is any real reason to worry. How could you when you're in the middle of all this??(Side note: this is of Tapeats Creek confluence with the Colorado, which they saw either early Monday or Late Sunday.)

They Called! They Called!

In an extremely short conversation at 7:15am where I spoke with my Dad and heard Paul say "hey you" before cutting out, I learned that they:
-- had satellite phone reception for the first time this morning
-- are having an amazing time; beyond imagination
-- did hike Elves Chasm (see yesterday's Where in the World)
-- were starting their day from a camp about 3 miles east of Deer Creek (which they were going to hike later in the day)

Where in the World is Wombat? Day Four

The family's City Slickers had "big rapid day" today. This is the complete description from the guide. They went from about mile 75-120.
I found this amazing website that helped piece together the maps below. Google earth actually picked up some of the white water from a few of the rapids, so here are so close-ups to check it out.
Map above -- they passed by the main Grand Canyon National Park Visitor's Center on the South Rim. Also, they went under the bridge that connects North and South Rims and allows visitors to travel from the South Rim to Phantom Ranch, which is located up Bright Angel Creek. When we descended the Canyon back in '94, we did not go down as far as the Colorado (just a day trip) but we went far enough to see the river... taking Bright Angel Trail the whole way.
These two points off of Tonto Plateau are two of the most famous for big canyon views... pictures further below.
More of their trip today...
Views from Pima Point from NPS. Elves Chasm...I don't know if they hiked here, but it is a well-loved spot along their path.
From Hopi Point
View of the River from Hopi Point.

Side note: Dad took a satellite phone on the insistence of work... we thought they'd call us at some point on the trip, if the phone functioned. My guess would have been that today would have been the most likely range for the phone to pick up a signal. No call!

Should've asked for the pony

Kate is quiet, relatively still, curled up at my side. She looks up from nursing, smiles her biggest, sweetest smile, and reaches her hand up to rest at my cheek. If, in this moment, she were to ask me for a pony, she'd be saddled up the next day.

Instead, she looks deep in my eyes and says: "Da Da."

Where in the World is Wombat? Day 3

Day Three: 50-75 mile, possible stop at Little Colorado River or Nankoweap Indian Ruins (Anasazi Granaries).
(Picture above: Anasazi Granaries at Nankoweap.)

The Nankoweap and Little Nankoweap Creeks drain into the Colorado River at the Nankoweap Delta, one of the largest deltas in the Grand Canyon. Between 900 and 1150, Ancestral Puebloans built an impressive row of granaries and other storage structures 500 feet up the cliff face. Accessible by a recently produced footpath, the granaries stored corn, squash, beans, and other crops. Although the word "weap" is Paiute for canyon or wash, the precise definition of Nankoweap -- "place where people were killed" or "singing or echo canyon," depending on the source -- is lost. Major John Wesley Powell supervised the building of the Nankoweap Trail, accessible from the North Rim, in 1882-1883 for a geologic expedition.

The Granaries are at mile 53. Beyond them is the confluence of the Little Colorado River with the Colorado... and the point where the Grand Canyon officially begins.
They are getting ready to ride some big rapids, because all the rough guide has for tomorrow is "big rapid day."

If Only Junior Walker had Known

Over the car radio, Junior Walker and the All-Stars start belting out, "What Does it Take (To Win Your Love)" launching my Mother into a 'my generation made the only music that has ever been and will ever be' moment. (Granted, she has a point, it being Motown and all.)

Mid-lecture on the lasting appeal of the song, she turns to rhetorically ask Will: "Will, What Does It Take to Win Your Love for Me?"

In a surprise move, Will answers:
"Lobster."

Where in the World is Wombat? Day 2

TODAY: They are traveling from mile 27 to mile 50, with possible stops for hikes at Redwall Cavern and/or South Canyon.

So what does all that mean?

Here is a big map of the Grand Canyon that gives a sense of where the Canyon is, relative to Arizona, Utah, and Nevada. On average, the width of the Canyon rim to rim is 10 miles. At its narrowest rim-to-rim measure, it is 600 yards across (at Marble Canyon); at its widest, the spread is 18 miles. The average depth of the Canyon is 1 mile... with an elevation of approximately 7000 feet at the South Rim and 8100 feet at the North Rim.The Colorado river, ever foraging the Canyon deeper, churns through 277 miles of the Grand Canyon. It twists along at about 4 miles an hour. The river's deepest point (at 85 feet) is also the narrowest (76 feet) at mile 135. The average river depth within the Grand Canyon is 40 feet. From it's source in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado to its mouth at the Gulf of California, the Colorado River treks 1,450 miles.
Above is the Google Map of the river as it goes through Grand Canyon National Park (click on it for a larger view). The yellow markers are approximate locations of rapids and monuments that they are likely to see/hike to/stop at during their trip. On their trip, Paul, My Dad, and The Boy will travel the river from mile 18 (I think these river miles are based on state lines, or maybe boundaries of the National Park?) to Pearce Ferry, which is before Lake Mead. They'll start the final day around mile 222; I'm not sure how many more miles Pearce Ferry is from this starting point. Here is John Wesley Powell's take on Marble Canyon (where the boys have been floating for the past two days):

"We have cut through the sandstones and limestones met in the upper part of the canyon, and through one great bed of marble a thousand feet in thickness. In this, great numbers of caves are hollowed out, and carvings are seen which suggest architectural forms, though on a scale so grand that architectural terms belittle them. As this great bed forms a distinctive feature of the canyon, we call it Marble Canyon."

The Google earth map below is of the section of canyon (I think) they are floating through today, based on the mileage information and day description sent by the rafting company.

South Canyon is located in the far southern corner of Marble Canyon, about 35 miles/56.3km (of the 277 mile/446 km long Grand Canyon) south of Lee's Ferry, which is the starting point of Grand Canyon National Park. Lee's Ferry is 15.3 miles/24.4km down the river from the Glen Canyon Dam. Marble Canyon ends where the Colorado River meets the Little Colorado River. The picture below is of South Canyon.

Redwall Cavern (mile 33) is a huge chamber dug out of the rock wall by the river. You can see pretty cool HUGE pictures of it here. Powell wrote that it was so large, he felt 50,000 people could sit inside (others doubt if its really that big, but say it's still pretty darn gigantic).

Will, on rain:

"Rain is when the dark brown in the sky gets a lot of heavy water. And it's sometimes dark. Dark like clouds. And it rains and Rains and RAINS. Sometimes it falls down. And sometimes it hits your nose."

Where in the World is Wombat?

Wombat et al. rode this morning from Las Vegas to Lee's Ferry, Arizona. (I think) they are entering the Colorado (probably as I write this) at Cathedral Wash, which is about a kilometer by river from Marble Canyon. The photo below is the Colorado River at the end of Cathedral Wash. You can see more here.

They're Off!

After a whirlwind weekend of working, packing, prepping, cleaning and readying (we enjoyed a rare treat on Sunday when friends babysat for us... so we could work... how's that for weekend excitement?) we left Monday night for Mobile.

Tuesday, Paul tried to get in as many hours as he could while I wrangled kids and continued in the readying process. One afternoon trip out for sunglasses (can you believe that my super-fair hubby does not have a pair of SUNGLASSES?) and they were ready. Dad and Paul took off from Mobile, met up with Skip in Houston, and arrived in Las Vegas without incident. Paul reports that their fellow rafters seem nice and include several from the UK and least two families with pre-teen aged kids. They were very excited and full of anticipation over the coming adventure!

They emerge from The Hole at Pearce Ferry sometime next Thursday.

Wombats-R-Us

While in Mobile, Kate and I enjoyed treats that my parents brought back from Skip and Emily... including an incredibly thoughtful Mother's Day card for me and birthday presents for Kate!
Emily and Skip found a selection of Wombat stories and a Wombat doll for Kate. This has significance: Wombat is Paul's moniker, a name by which he is well-known personally... and, believe it or not, professionally. When he was co-opting in college, a "WOMBAT" was a "Waste Of Money Brains And Time" and Paul, plucky guy that he is, picked it up as his own. (Yes, I have been called "Mrs. Wombat." What can I say? I married up.)

This was primarily a personal call sign until a few years ago, when his teams of co-workers became filled with other Pauls... everyone used nicknames. Paul became "Wombat." This continued into his telecommuting roles, which is where things get interesting. Paul rarely goes into the DC-area office (once in 3 1/2 years) and is known as "Wombat." He is also very good at what he does, creating a curious mystique about this super-smart guy called "Wombat" who no one has ever seen. I think this makes the perfect movie ...

Scene: Computer lab in some dungenous CIA facility. Top secret agent Denzel Washington is leaning over a computer screen where his leggy co-star, a mid-level employee unwittingly pulled into the fiasco, types frantically.

Co-star: "I just can't do it. This is stuff that I don't understand and can't access."
Denzel: "We need more information! Isn't there someone who can help us?"
Co-star: "Well...there is one guy... he's a legend. I've never seen him, few people have. He's so good that some say he doesn't really exist, but I'm pretty sure I could find him."
Denzel: "Who is he?"
Co-star: "I don't know his real name. He's called 'Wombat'..."
Denzel: "Wombat???" (pauses) "Well, if you say he's that good, we need him. Where do we find this 'Wombat' guy?"

Cut to sunny fly-over shot of Beautiful New Orleans and bright sounds of New Orleans Dixieland...!

This is what I see in my head when I think about Paul's work. I picture stuffy CIA-officials that look like Denzel Washington trying to track down the mysterious 'Wombat' in the middle of a Mardi Gras parade. What can I say? The woman known as "Mrs. Wombat" has to get her excitement from somewhere.

Some Will-isms at (almost) 3 1/2

Putting on "Lighting McQueen" underwear: "Look, Mommy! It says 'M' for 'RACECAR!'"We're in the bathroom at Magic Box toys, a room off the center of the small store where, undoubtedly, shoppers and store keepers can all hear the conversation within:
W: "I gotta go make a BIG POOP."
M: "Okay, Will, you do your stuff." (help lift him on the commode)
W: (sitting on toilet with head between his knees, grunting) "uhhhhh ONE. uhhhh TWO..."
M: "Will, what are you doing?"
W: (between grunts) "I counting my poops. Wait, here comes more... uhhhh THREE."
M: (pause while trying to decide whether to laugh or feel mortified)
W: (finishing up) "FOUR and ... FIVE!" (hops off seat and declares proudly) "Mommy, I made five HUGE poops!"Will: "Katey! No eating baby wipes! Those are for ADULTS ONLY!"

Nuckin Futs

Louisiana doesn't need wetland restoration. It doesn't need a protective levee system. It needs TO CONTROL WOMEN'S BODIES.

Blakely is concerned that the city, which is down from 430,000 to 260,000 residents, has 40,000 school-aged children, but no public school system.

"Birth control is probably something needed in Louisiana," he told the audience.

Let's go with this! The answers to rebuilding an impoverished city ravaged by corporate greed and personal profit are obvious: JUST STOP WOMEN FROM HAVING BABIES.

Slippery when wet

-- Tooth Number FOUR (upper right) officially made an appearance Saturday night.
-- On hot days, Kate is wearing her 3-6 month onesies from last summer. And they are not tight.
-- Seeing dogs wade through the fountain in the park has a totally new meaning when its the same fountain your kids love to splash in.
-- It's easier to keep Kate topless when swimming.
-- I downloaded the free 30-day trial of Photoshop only to find that the darn thing has changed a lot since the 90s.

Finally, something new...

A new look for coldspaghetti (finally) and maybe more to come. I feel much better now!

To Our Sweet BabyCakes, who is ONE YEAR OLD

This first photograph is currently my favorite picture of you, my daughter who is now One Year Old. It is not because is captures a particularly memorable moment, but because (and if you have seen pictures of me at this age you will gasp in agreement) you are undeniably, without question, The Spitting Image Of Me.
Being a petite little thing (most of the babies in Abeona's baby room weigh more than you, including the ones only 4 months old) provides an excellent contrast to your temperament. Your stature may be small, but nothing about you is demure or docile. Your reputation for being busy, curious, interested, engaged, focused and determined is becoming well known: when babies (who are currently all boys) quickly crawl out of their classroom to explore other places, they are called "Kate Junior."
Nighttime has recently become a challenge. While you still fall asleep at roughly the same time as your brother, you wake up after a few hours READY TO PAR-TAY. Indeed, the hours of 10pm-12am are the most fun to spend with you. You sing, run, babble, play, and talk... and then CRASH. For several nights in the past week, your Dad has put you in the car seat and taken you for a drive around the block as a last resort to get to you to sleep (since the porch swing, rocking chair, walking the house, patting your butt, singing to you and all the other assorted methods we've tried have proven fruitless). Last night, we realized that we would rather not go out past 10pm and used the car seat to "swing" you in the air. It worked, but now Dad's right arm is 8 inches longer than his left.
Still, there is no question that you are a Night Owl. Vim, Vigor, and Vitality all after the sun goes down. This is completely opposite from your brother, whose daily mood can be charted with a line showing strong association between length of time awake and worsening of mood: peaked at euphoric at the moment he wakes up and then slowly tapering down into the range of whiny when he goes to bed.
This is not to say that you wake up grumpy. You generally wake up fine, not particularly bright-eyed, but pleasant and ready to cooperate with the family schedule... you just can't walk in a straight line until you have had your coffee. You are SO my kid.
In one year, you've gone from a tiny infant who managed 18 poops on her first day home to a walking (almost) talking little person that can poop out whole lima beans with minimal effort. Like your brother, you are a very good pooper. And you LOVE the toliet. We have to make a concerted effort to keep the bathroom door closed at all times, lest you race your little self in there and flush the commode, over and over, until the handle no longer functions. I am hoping that this is a sign that you will potty train early, like maybe next month?
Last week, for the first time, you feel off the bed in the middle of the night. My Mother-instinct was awake the moment your body left the bed; the bedside lap was on and my feet were on the floor the second I heard the thump, before my brain had even understood what was happening. You cried for about a second and went back to sleep quickly. How you even got into bed with us that night is still a mystery (we're getting so good that apparently we can even retrieve you from the crib without waking up). Despite all our attempts at reaching this milestone earlier (letting you nap on beds, horsing around with you in the covers) this was the first time you had actually fallen (your brother didn't fall out of the bed until he was older and in his own bed). The fall was much less traumatic than I thought it would be; I assumed it would age me a bit, like when your brother fell while dancing and gave himself the huge egg on his forehead. In reality, tt was much more traumatic when you ate cat poop. THAT called for serious concern.
After your fall, we decided to make a greater effort in getting you to sleep in your crib at night. (Well, the fall and the fact that you -- like your brother -- are a seriously restless sleeper.) While you do like to cuddle, you rarely stay in one position more than 17 seconds (we've counted) unless the position is one where you are expertly poised to kick your Dad in the kidneys. (I find this perfectly acceptable, since, in my book, he has no excuse for turning his back on you in the night. His nose should be just as open to exploration by your fingers as mine.) Your restlessness is being noticed at school as well. You've moved (quickly!) into sleeping on a mat and have been photographed cuddling with other children to curl up and sleep.
You have said several words off and on (including saying "Gladys" which is the name of your previous teacher in the baby room at Abeona). Yet even with all these words (specifically: MaMa, Uh-ho, Owwww, and Gato) the word you say ALL THE TIME is DaDa. You LOVE DaDa so much that you say it all day long,chattering away in one endless stream of DaDa DaDa DaDa (just like that, too, with two capitals). Because you do this while you wave your ever-pointed finger around as if directing an orchestra, we are beginning to wonder if you equate DaDa with more than just Paul. Along with Paul (who you walk right up to and announce "DaDa!" with all the force of a child who demands to be picked up and carried RIGHT NOW) you have used "DaDa" to describe yourself, a few Cheerios, and a hairball.
Abeona has exposed you to baby sign language, which you've incorporated into your own special form of communication. Your brother helped a bit with this, if by "helping" we mean messing with your head. Will loves to show you signs that vary from the traditionally known motions ("Baby Kate, THIS means I love you, Mommy!" says Will with his middle finger raised. Okay, so I'm exaggerating. He hasn't taught her that. Yet.) As a result, your signs aren't necessarily the standard ones everyone else uses.
Your favorite sign is MORE, which you do with one palm outstretched in a "show me the money" sort of sign. It is impressive that you understand it to be applicable to more than just food. You'll sign more when you want the book we're reading to be read again. Or when you want to nurse. Or when you want to watch more American Idol. (Being the little hip-hop princess that you are, you have a little crush on Blake.)
Your first birthday came and went with only three teeth emerged in your tiny head. BUT, you've got FIVE teeth close to coming in... including all four top teeth. If you look in the picture below (yes, there is food all over your face and nose) you can see the whites of those teeth trying so hard to poke through...
Each day you are able to interact and play with your brother a little more. For the most part, you play together incredibly well. We hear that he visits you at school, and everyone knows how big your smile is whenever he is around. Likewise, Will adores you, giggling in every moment he's with you. One of the best parts about renting the minivan on our trip was that your carseats were directly beside each other on the bench seat. The two of you spent our hours on the road making faces, playing peek-a-boo, and just enjoying each other's close company. Still, whenever you knock over the tower Will is building with his blocks, or pull at the paper he's coloring on, or reach over and try to drink from his sippy cup... he has moments when we praise him for using his words. I read somewhere that siblings start to really play well together when the youngest is 2 1/2 years old. It surprises me to think that your relationship is just going to get better. Watching the two of you together is one of my greatest joys. It is also very helpful when my hands our full; Will does a great job distracting you in those overwhelming moments!
How we could be so lucky to have you, so happy, so sweet, so beautiful, in our lives... you and your brother... is something your Dad and I ponder each day. Congratulations on a beautiful first year, Baby Girl!